Swift surveyed the valley from his vantage point, he could see groups of people scattered below, going about their usual daily routine. There wasn't a single person in the vista before him that he didn't know well, and many of them if asked would speak well of him, and tell of his achievements. This did nothing to quell the feeling in his mind that the life laid out before him was stifling, he wanted to do more, be more than those around him.

He had always been one to ask questions, seek answers, could it be there were some things they were not meant to know? For some time now he had doubted the received wisdom of the elders on many things, though being three hands of summers old, he was only a man of three summers, and was expected to know his place. His mother and her mate both now resided with the ancestors, so he had his own hearth, rather than share the lodge of the un-mated men.

Each person in the village knew their status, it was unspoken, it came about from many aspects, the wisdom of age and experience, the skills you had, the responsibilities you held, and your contributions to the people.

He was still a relatively young man, but he was skilled in the hunt, and had learned well how to track many animals, he had spent the time to study how they behaved so he could think as they did. As yet his hearth was empty, most others of his age had sought a mate, calling in favours from kin to raise the dowry price of a mate. You couldn't just expect a hearth to let go a young woman without due payment, and offering too low a price was a grave insult to all concerned, lowering everybody's status whether or not it was accepted.

Two large beasts, several good skins, and a handful of other trade goods would be considered a fair price in many cases, but if the girl was of a higher status the man might even need to raise three beasts, which would leave him in the debt of the other hunters needed to kill the animals for many moons to come. It was accepted practice that one beast would be for the feast of the tying ceremony, and the second and in some cases a third beast would follow each within one moon. Failure to fore fill the obligation was seen as a very poor omen for the tying, and brought disgrace that lowered status of all those involved.

Today it was his task to act as lookout, to raise a warning if any predator were to come in sight, thus allowing those below to get on with their own tasks. He had both a keen eye and ear, scanning the landscape for any sign of danger, ready to make a warning call, but he also kept still, watching his immediate surroundings for small game that he could easily dispatch without shirking his duty. The early morning sun warming the fresh spring grass was sure to lure forth rabbits from a nearby warren, and he would be ready.

Crouched low he was still as a rock, only his eyes constantly moving, at one with the earth, and the creatures upon it. The first snout appeared, whiskers twitching, also on the lookout for predators, soon the steep grassy slope had a good many grey and brown furry shapes darting about. After their initial burst of energy, stretching their legs from being in their warren they would settle down to eat, then he would act.

Many would say a slingshot was only fit for women or children, not the weapon of a man, but Swift held his own ideas, thinking to make use of whatever worked best, and at this moment his spear lay idle at his side. At his waist a pouch held carefully selected stones from the river bed, each the same size and shape. When he took down the first rabbit he would need all of his speed if he were to get a second kill before they all took flight.

He didn't go for the nearest, but a plump one further off, the two nearer to him could flee either way, and would be easier targets giving him the brief extra time he needed. His timing was perfect, almost before the first rabbit dropped he was swinging a second stone aiming at another. Two stones, two rabbits, the others had all scattered, and he would bag no more here for a while. He stood, stretching, looking all around the valley checking nothing had changed during the short time he had concentrated on the grass eaters.

Not wanting to gut the rabbits now, or carry them about as he patrolled along the edge of the plateau, he signalled down to the camp for them to send a runner, then held aloft his two kills. The old man on watch near the camp still had good eyes, even if one leg no longer worked right due to a hunt gone bad, Swift had been a boy at the time, but clearly remembered the party bringing him back on the travois meant for the kill. The medicine woman had saved the leg, and the man's life, but with a limp his hunting days were over.

This summer at the meeting of the clans, if he hadn't yet found a mate from his own camp, the expectations among the older women were that he would find one from one of the many other camps that trekked to the annual gathering. At each meeting the camp elders, leaders, and shaman set the place to meet the following year, so as not to take too greater toll on any one location. The meet this year would be only four days walk, leaving behind in camp only those too infirm for the journey, with enough people to hunt and care for them.

Swift had a problem in that he cared little for any of the young women in his camp who were his age mates, and one moon at the summer meeting was hardly enough time to find a life mate, and really know if you had made a wise choice. He had seen the outcome of bad matches, and it did not result in a happy hearth. He often thought that the less desirable of the young women got tied at the summer meeting, young men blinded by a comely smile, and shared pleasures, without thinking of her other traits that would only show up once the knot was tied.

It was custom to celebrate a girl becoming a woman at her first moon blood, then it was common she would seek a mate over the next two turns of the seasons. Those that were untied by that time were either stubborn, thinking they deserved a higher status match, or in other cases that they had little to bring to a man's hearth. Of course if a young woman were to come with child while still looking for a mate, her status rose, and the young men would see her as a better prospect as a mate, causing her dowry price to rise as she would bring a child into his hearth.

The commonly held belief was that any time after first blood a young woman could become with child, and if she were mated the child may or may not favour the spirit of the man whose hearth she shared. Swift was sure this was wrong, he was sure it was the essence issued by the man during shared pleasures that caused the woman to be with child, others argued against this little held belief, saying many times a woman might share pleasures and there was no child a a result.

He was confident he was right, he knew animals shared pleasures, for he had seen them, and his own mind was set in this idea. It also raised the point of the elders ban on some close kin sharing pleasures on the grounds it angered the spirits, and would bring down bad luck for a great time afterwards. In their clan they were fortunate to have some wise heads in charge, in that the three most important people, the chief, the shaman, and their healer got on well together, and were open to new ideas, making their clan favoured by the spirits.

He didn't mind being alone on watch duty, as it gave him time to think his own thoughts without others disturbing the process, but tomorrow he may find himself with the hunters, or on some other task. At the evening gathering the leader and his helpers would talk over the needs of the camp, assigning who should do what according to their skills. Swift was not yet among the best of the hunters, and had taken time with the flint knapper, the pot maker, and the worker of skins, to name a few, but he was as yet undecided if he had a calling to follow a single line. He was content for the moment to practice the various skills he had seen in his own time, to meet his own needs.

His attention was drawn back to the valley after scanning across the open plain, by a rapid movement. A small figure was running in his direction from the camp, even from far off he knew who it was, Dove, the daughter of Raven. There were only the mother and daughter to their hearth, Raven's mate having been killed on a hunt a long time ago, and as the woman's main skill was only in mat weaving, she was considered as low status, and too old for any man to take as a mate, even as a second mate. Women outnumbered men in every camp, it was the way with hunting, so it was fairly common for good hunters to tie with more than one woman, but Raven's time had perhaps passed.

Still vigilant in his task, his eyes kept getting drawn back to the approaching figure of the young girl. Dove was all of eight summers, lean and strong, many said favouring the spirit of her mother's dead mate, keen and always ready to learn. Of late she had spent much time with the healer, off with her gathering the herbs and plants needed to treat the old and sick of the camp. The healers carried many lifetimes of knowledge, and often took on more than one acolyte in order to find the most suited to take their place when it was their time to join the ancestors. For this reason it was not unusual for a girl of eight to spend time learning about herbs.

He gave an inward smile at the girls approach, if it were that she were older she would be a fine mate, he envied her age mates, some young lad would be lucky to have her when the time came. Raven with the help of the other women of the camp would not seek that much in the way of a dowry, which was a pity as he could see potential in the girl, and maybe he wasn't the only one, if the healer was taking an interest.

Dove had just come back from where the women were digging up edible roots, returning to camp with a full basket when she saw old Hawk making sign to that day's lookout. The man had a kind spirit, happy despite how fate had treated him, not able to walk far, he did what he could in and around the camp. When asked if she would fetch back some fresh kill from the lookout she was eager to help out, as it meant she could run free in the lush spring grass.

She was pleased to see it was Swift up on the ridge, of all the young men of the camp she felt he had the fairest looks, and had heard the older girls just into their womanhood talk well of him. He was well placed among those of his age mates, having much status for a one of his age, and he had his own hearth where several girls had been to share pleasures with him. The women all talked of these things when they worked together so it was no big secret.

Rather than head straight to where he was standing she set off to a point across the valley floor that would give her a longer, but less steep ascent of the far side. Of all those he could of asked, he chose her mother last time he needed a new mat for his sleeping furs, and he had been generous in his payment, not beating down the price as some might do.

Reaching near the top of the slope the sun was bright in her eyes, and as the ground began to level out she missed her footing and stumbled falling headlong in her rush to breach the ridge. She fell heavily, her arms flew out to break her fall, but the sudden disturbance roused a snake that had been warming in the morning sun, and it stuck out, it's fangs sank into her thigh releasing it's poison.

Between his scanning the area for any approaching predators, he had watched Dove's progress up the slope, noting her sensible choice of route, and had seen the snake strike from the long grass as she had fallen so close to where it had lain. In a flash the sling was in his hand as he rushed to her aid, a well placed shot slamming into the snake that would bite no more.

Dove had cried out in agony, she looked down at the wound on her thigh, the twin puncture marks that could spell her death. Frozen in place she looked in horror at the raised head of the snake in time to see it snap back, and fall limp to the ground. In the next moment Swift was kneeling down at her side to see the severity of the injury.

He had heard of snake bites, and the healer had once said the speed of treatment meant the difference between this world and the next, getting the poison out quickly was the only way to save a person who had been bitten. He couldn't bear the thought of hacking his knife into the young girl's leg to get out the venom, so grasping her leg firmly he bent down and sucked hard at the wound several times, spitting out the foul poison left by the snake. When he felt he had done all he could, he told the girl to lie still till help came.

It was six or more long spear throws to the camp, so shouts other than a warning cry were of no use, but as hunters they had a wide range of signals to communicate with the need for silence when tracking game. Hawk saw Dove fall then the frantic activity that had followed, now from the signals he saw the signs for 'snake' and 'healer', so rushed to take action, sending someone to find the healer, others to find a travois, and someone else to fetch Raven lest the girl should go to the next world without the chance to say goodbye.

With few people close to camp, and most of those women or children he called on two of the older boys, not yet in their manhood with instructions they were to take over guard duty from Swift to watch over the valley, impressing upon them how vital it was they kept vigilant, as many others would rely on them, being busy seeing to the stricken girl. Soon Hawk heard a wail from the direction where several women had been digging up roots, and guessed that it was Raven having been told the news about her only child.

Hawk felt somewhat helpless as he watched the growing number of people rushing up the opposite side of the valley, among them Wilma the healer with her medicine bag slung over her shoulder. He felt a special bond with the woman, for without her care he was sure no one could have saved him, and every day he ensured wood and kindling were always stacked by her dwelling, so she had time for her more important tasks. Some clans lived in caves, others in dwellings made of skins over a frame, but their camp was a wide but shallow cave with a broad rock ledge near the base of the valley, where they built hide dwellings that befitted from the extra shelter of the overhanging rock.

Swift did his best to calm the panicked girl telling her it was best to keep still and that help was on it's way. He didn't know what else he could do, other than to hold her and offer reassurance the healer would arrive soon to treat her wound. Though he could see the people heading their way were pounding up the slope, time dragged as if he could count each footfall. In his mind he called out to the spirits that Dove might live, that he had done the right things to help save her.

At over thirty years old Wilma was feeling her years, and knew the others climbing the steep side of the valley had not rushed past her, partly out of deference to her status, and also because there was little they could do until she got there to assess the severity of the girl's injury. Some way behind her she could hear the wails of Raven, as she struggled to reach her child.

Wilma took in the scene, looking at the dead snake, knowing some were more dangerous than others, then she questioned Dove and Swift to find out what had happened. She was impressed he had acted so quickly, and without thought for his own safety in sucking the poison from the girl's thigh. Sorting though her bag she found the necessary herbs to make a poultice that would draw the foulness out the wound, which she would keep in place with a temporary binding until they got back to camp. There she would brew-up a better fresh poultice using Marsh Mallow.

Dove had been out with her often on her frequent searches for the plants needed to stock up her supplies which had run low over the winter. The girl showed promise, that one day she too could be a healer if that was the path she sought, but there was so much to learn. One thing few untrained people knew, was that much power lay in the mind, healers were aware that many ailments could not be treated, but some relief could be found if a sick person were told the preparation they had been given was powerful.

Outside of camp, unless they were stopping somewhere overnight, Wilma relied on her dried medicines washed down with water, one of which she gave to the girl, to help calm her and ease the pain. Most of her remedies were more effective when made up as a fresh decoction or infusion with hot water at her own hearth.

When Raven arrived, Wilma had strong words with her about all the fuss and wailing, saying not to disturb Dove, as her daughter wasn't going anywhere, other than back to the camp to get well, and for that she could thank Swift for his prompt action. Rather than drag the travois back, it was carried down so Dove could have a smoother passage back, though Swift was unable to help as Dove wouldn't let go of his hand.

The litter was taken straight to Wilma's dwelling, but only Swift and Raven were allowed to remain there as the medicine woman began her treatment. Hers was one of the few fires in camp that was kept alight day and night regardless of the season, so at a moments notice she was ready to prepare her healing concoctions.

She bared the wound cleaned it, then applied a fresh poultice she had made in a wooden bowl heated by adding stones from the fire. In another bowl she had mixed camomile with the powdered flowers of Great Mullen, into the infusion she added other herbs, more for taste than any benefit that would accrue from their inclusion. She got the girl to sip the mixture that would both calm the child, and reduce her pain, it also contained a mild soporific, which after the shock of her experience soon sent her to sleep.

Only in sleep did her grip slacken, then Swift and the two women stepped outside to talk leaving the flap open so that Wilma could watch her patient. Swift now retold in detail what had happened, and how he didn't want to carry the dead rabbits about all day when they could be sent back to the camp so someone could share his bounty, to be cooked up for the evening meal. He said how he felt responsible for Dove's condition, but Wilma said it was down to fate. Hawk could have sent any nearby child to run the errand, who may then have stumbled, or not as the fates decreed, and surprised the snake into lashing out.

Wilma praised his quick response, and asked questions to find out if he had been affected in any way by his action of sucking out the poison, saying she wanted to know straight away if he felt any ill effects however mild. It was in the way of all healers to find out what they could learn from any unusual circumstance. She left neither Swift or Raven in any doubt that his brave and selfless deed had ensured the girl would promptly recover from her ordeal.

Raven asked if she might cook up the rabbits for him that he still carried, and it was settled that all four of them would eat together later, if Dove was awake by then. Raven was glad to have something to do to keep her mind off how badly things might have been, also it would be an honour having the healer and young hero visit her hearth for a meal. They broke up, and Swift went to see Hawk to thank him for his help during the crisis, and for arranging the younger lads to take over his watch, as he had been unable to get Dove to relinquish her hold on his hand to resume his duty.

The older man laughed at that small detail, telling Swift how eager the girl had been to go up to the ridge to visit him, and how he thought it was amusing he had a young admirer. As they talked some more Swift thought on what the man had said, and looking back he realised he had often seen Dove about as he was working outside his dwelling, more so than he would expect, as she and her mother lived nearer the other end of the camp.

Making his way back to his own dwelling, several people spoke with him, and somehow the comments from a few of the women cast a new light on how he viewed past events. Can it be he was so blind to what was happening in his own camp that seemed so plain to others about him, was it common that girls so young might think about men outside of their age mates? Swift was beginning to think he knew more of the habits of animals than he did of the thoughts of women or girls.

It was approaching time for the mid day meal, and the women from the gathering parties would all be back, then the story would spread, and he was bound to be invited to join some of them to eat. To avoid that situation he grabbed a small pouch of dried travelling food then headed off for his favourite bathing place along the river. Passing two men who were working with the fish traps, he waved but walked on past to his destination, not wanting to speak to anyone until he had taken time alone to think.

An oxbow of the meandering river was almost cut off from the main stream, having just a small flow passing through to keep it fresh, and allowing the sun to warm it, though the main river wasn't too cold since the last of the melt water from the distant mountains had now passed. He laid aside his short breaches and jerkin, standing his spear firmly in the bank beside his waist pouch and sling, then stepped out into the water with the small piece of soap-root he had remaining.

As he stood in the thigh deep water washing himself, he thought of Dove's slim strong thighs, and how he hadn't been able to spoil her smooth young skin with his knife, but choosing instead to suck out the venom. It was still the unblemished skin of childhood, and as she was lying there in pain and distress her short garment in disarray where she had fallen then rolled over, her small girl cleft on display. It was unfledged with the woman hair of the older girls he had shared pleasures with, or the more abundant mat of hair that all adults had, this had made her young age all the more apparent.

Hearing noises he looked around, a group of foragers was approaching on their way back to the camp, their baskets loaded down with their morning's bounty. They greeted him as they passed, from their comments not yet aware of the earlier drama. He had in the past shared pleasures with a few of the girls in the party, and one of the women, it had been Della who had taken the task to teach him the mysteries of such things when he had reached manhood, as all were taught on that right of passage.

She had been patient and understanding, he was obviously not the first she had guided on those first steps to becoming an adult, but he still felt a warmth towards the older woman though she must be by now close to thirty. Watching as they moved off he compared their shapes from the rounded mature form of Della and the other older women, through the willowy more slender forms of the younger women of his own age through to the young girls not yet of age, slimmer and shorter - more like Dove.

After bathing he had taken a long walk, unsure how to handle the current situation, unsure if their was a situation that needed to be handled, what will be will be, let the fates sort it out.

Returning to camp later that afternoon even the hunters who had been out all day greeted him warmly with slaps on the back, for the tale of how he saved a child from certain death was now widespread. He was sure over the coming days it would travel as fast as a man could run, before long it would be added to the sagas told by the story tellers at the clan gatherings. He didn't feel like a hero, at the time it had been instinctive, the best way to help, you didn't need to be a healer to know that larger wounds would nearly always fester. He had been sure sucking the poison out through the original bite marks would cause the least additional harm.

He grabbed his bowl and cup on the way to Raven's dwelling, and for the first time gave any thought to how well the woman might cook, never having eaten at her hearth, though no doubt he had eaten food she had prepared in the past for camp feasts. Approaching he saw a cooking skin hanging over her fire, indicating she had made some kind of stew, for that required care and skill, to have a skin prepared so as it would leak very slowly to avoid burning through and dumping your meal into the embers.

Her welcome was warm and enthusiastic, crushing him against her modest bosom, he was assailed by a fleeting thought hoping her daughter would grow to have small shapely breasts like her mother. He scolded himself for thinking about the injured Dove in such a way, but at that moment Wilma arrived and was also warmly welcomed, though with more decorum as befitting her status. Raven whispered that Dove would have run out to greet them both had not Wilma given the girl dire warnings she was not to leave her sleeping furs until told otherwise.

They were both ushered inside, where the small dwelling was adorned with many rush mats that showed off Raven's work, with more stacked up ready for trade. Dove from her furs welcomed her two visitors, whether by accident or intent greeting Swift first, though he was sure she was old enough to know better. Wilma didn't seem to take offence, but instead knelt down to feel the girls brow for the heat of fervour, and her leg to check for any inflammation. Uncharacteristically Wilma voiced her amazement at how the patient was progressing, stating the wound appeared no worse any normal cut or scrape, and how this would be a subject for discussion among the healers at summer camp.

With the coming of the warmer season, there was only a small fire inside to provide light as night fell, and cooking could now be done out in the open. Dove was allowed up to go outside, where Swift was arranging sitting logs around the fire, as Raven checked on the meal. Raven asked for her guests bowls, serving Wilma first then Swift, Dove was told to sit, and her mother would carry her food worried about the girl's injured leg. Rather than take her own seat, she nudged Swift to move over so she could share his log, and a look passed between the two women.

After some of his thoughts today he felt a little uncomfortable with the hero worship, but tried to maintain his end of the conversation during the meal. He learned the boys who had taken on his watch did see some predators, lions, but they stayed far out on the plateau as they were trailing a herd of cattle. It seemed the snake had ended up in someone's pot, so Swift teased Dove she should find out who was cooking it so she could go over and bite the snake back herself.

Dove wanted Swift to teach her how to use a sling, as he had hit two of the quick rabbits, and the narrow target of a snake, almost snapping it's head off. He was a more than a little embarrassed that his skills with a child's weapon should be brought to light, but when Wilma joined in to say it was not unmanly to use the most suitable tool for the task at hand, stating people would have laughed if he had used a spear to hunt rabbits.

He was pleased that someone so important didn't mock his continuing use of a skill he had honed during childhood, and recognising that just because you were on watch didn't mean you couldn't bring something back for the hearth. Swift enjoyed the stew, various plants and herbs had added their flavour to the rabbit, that could by itself roasted over the fire seem a little bland. He picked out the chunks of meat, and supped the liquid from the edge of his bowl, tossing the small bones into the flames.

He thanked Raven for inviting him to share the meal realising he had never eaten at their hearth before, though he had eaten at many others, more so recently with the families of the girls who were his age mates. He had begun to wonder if any of them considered him as a potential mate, it was enjoyable to spend time with some of them on the furs, but so far he had not felt he wanted to bond with any of them.

Raven pointed out the two rabbit skins that had been scraped, and were soaking in a bowl of urine and the mashed rabbit brains to tan and soften, but Swift had no need of any small furs saying she should keep them, as he knew women favoured soft rabbit furs for their moon time. With their meal over it was time to for the camp meeting, as people were starting to gather at the main fire pit.

The four of them headed over to join the throng, with Wilma leaving them to go and stand with Stag the camp leader, and with their Shaman, the three of them conversing before the meeting began. Since the beginning of the meal Dove had been at his side like moss on a stone and had remained so as they waited to hear the latest news and plans for the following day. Just as he thought Stag had come to the end of his announcements, he then brought up the events of that morning, placing Swift firmly in the role of having saved Dove's life, even going on to say the girl was well enough after being bitten by a snake that she had showed up for the meeting.

There was a stamping of feet and shouting to show the general approval of the crowd that left Swift feeling embarrassed again, several people nearby patting him on the back and having kind words, he also felt Dove was now tightly holding his hand. As the noise died down, Wilma stepped forwards giving her own view on what had happened, stating that Swift seemed to have suffered no ill effects from his brave action of sucking out the poison, also that Dove was in much better shape than if her leg had been cut open as was normally the case when people had suffered a snake bite in the past.

After Wilma it was the Shaman's turn, on becoming a Shaman they gave up their own name, and just became known as the Shaman of whichever camp where they were the advisor to in all matters concerning the spirits. He started off with the usual stuff, then went on to say how they had been blessed over the winter season to lose so few of their number, and now with spring upon them it was a coming time of plenty. Then he had his say about events that morning, stating that the act of saving someone's life meant that from then onwards the two peoples spirits would be forever linked. Swift looked down into Dove's adoring eyes as he felt her once again squeeze his hand.

When the meeting closed many people who had not done so earlier came by to speak with Swift. He noted that whenever an untied young woman, or even one of the younger widows stopped to have words the leach at his side acted strangely, as a mother might try to look after her cubs, then he realised she was jealous of the attention he was getting from the younger women of the camp.

He was sure the spirits visited him with odd visions during the night, though he couldn't recall what they were about other than they must have involved sharing pleasures as there was a patch of sticky dampness to his sleeping furs. From that point on whenever he was in camp, it was as if he had gained an additional shadow, and when Dove wasn't at his side she now spent the remainder of her time with Wilma. She was determined to be Wilma's most devoted acolyte, studying hard to absorb all the knowledge of the healing arts.

Though Swift had gained status from his actions, and he was glad for Dove's complete return to health, his thoughts were troubled. On those occasions when his shadow had been elsewhere many of the younger women of the camp had offered to share his furs, but he had been coming up with excuses, while trying not to offend those wishing to spend the night at his hearth. He was at a loss what to do, should he confide in Wilma in her role as healer, or speak with the Shaman for guidance from the spirits.

The truth was he enjoyed having Dove at his side, she was bright and curious about many of the mysteries around them, and he could envisage spending more time with her, even the rest of his life - but she was only eight! He wasn't sure about if the laws of the people said anything about the age at which a girl could become tied; he knew of tradition and of custom, but were there rules on the matter. With this latest thought, it now meant he had possibly three people who held answers to his quandary.

In Doves mind her future was laid out, she would tie with Swift, then go on to become the best healer in all of the camps. On sharing her plans with her mother, she could see that her feelings towards Swift were taken only as hero worship or gratitude for his saving her life, even though she tried to explain these feelings had existed beforehand. She knew by most people she would be considered too young to think of adult dreams, but having been dismissed by her mother she confided in Wilma.

Wilma didn't wave off what she had to say as a childish whim, instead she asked what Dove knew of adult responsibilities, about a woman's role when she was tied to a man. Dove like all children of the clan knew what happened in the furs, and at celebrations, or during certain feasts what might occur anywhere in the shadows away from the main fire. Of sharing pleasures she had a basic knowledge even if lacking any personal experience, and she was aware of the size of a man's staff when the will was upon him.

Wilma wasn't surprised that Dove would not let the matter rest, and she even enquired what else a young woman could do for her mate to ensure his happiness. It was only half a moon past the time of the snake incident when Wilma was out gathering herbs by herself when she sensed she was being watched. Apart from her ever present medicine bag, she carried a stout walking stave that could be used in defence, but on this occasion it was not a wild animal that emerged from the shrubs, but young Swift.

It had not been easy for him to find a time when Wilma would be alone, but he felt of the three people he needed to talk with, she was the one who would be most understanding.

The conversation started out stilted and awkward, but she did not scald him, or make him feel unworthy for the thoughts that had possessed him. She listened calmly, willing him to speak freely, then said she would arrange a time when Swift could take private council with Stag, the Shaman, and herself.

The meeting with Wilma had gone far better than he had expected, though his bowels turned to water at the thought of the meeting yet to come, almost laughing at the idea he should ask the healer for some potion to steady him for the ordeal.

In the mean time while he awaited an audience, life carried on as normal, even if it was a new sort of normal, in that Dove was often his companion, about the only time she wasn't at his side was when he went out hunting, or on visits to the men's waste trench. He also found himself the frequent visitor to Raven's dwelling for meal's, ostensibly to save him from having to cook for himself, when it was just as easy for her to cook for three instead of two. Due to this change he provided most of the meat for their hearth.

The young women who had been trying to gain his attention had all backed off, whether that was due to his continual show of disinterest or from Dove's attitude he was unsure, but at least it meant he didn't have to keep thinking up weak excuses to fend them off. At last word came from Wilma that he was to meet with the three elders after first meal the next morning. He told Dove she would need to find her own amusements the following day as he had been called to meet with Stag on camp business, and how it would be discourteous to show up with her, if she hadn't specifically been invited.

Even with the path cleared he did not sleep well, having had no indication from Wilma as to how this meeting might play out. The small helping of dried trail food sat heavy on his stomach as he loitered near Wilma's dwelling, with the intention of awaiting her move to visit Stag, and tag along with her. She had of course seen him, but took no notice of his presence until she was ready to set off.

He didn't know what to expect from the meeting, but it was held inside Stag's dwelling, and one of his main helpers was told to ensure they were not interrupted unless it was a matter of some urgency. The flap of the door was left open to admit the morning light, and as he sat there with the three senior elders of his camp he realised this was one of the few dwellings he had never previously visited.

Swift was glad he could detect no hint of anger, or any untoward feeling from the two important men who had agreed to see him, and he knew that Wilma was not without sympathy regarding his plight. First Stag outlined what he had been told by Wilma, then went on to say there were no laws that forbid what had been discussed. Then the Shaman had his say, in that the spirits recognised not all pairings followed tradition, he had even come across cases where two men or two women felt so strongly bound they had made a union similar to the ties held by other couples.

The tough questions followed, about whether he had been with any young women from among his age mates since his manhood ceremony. They would of course have known that Della had spent four days and nights teaching him the things a young man needed to know at that time, but it was not uncommon for some young men to have already learned of such things with willing older girls. It was a grave offence in their culture to force any woman to join you in the furs against her will, and he assured his inquisitors that he would never do that. He stated many of the young women he had been with had returned many times to his furs of their own accord.

When asked of the youngest woman to share his furs he thought the answer was probably eleven or twelve summers, and the oldest other than his manhood teacher to be a woman of sixteen. Stag asked him outright if he had yet done anything with Dove that might be construed as the moves leading up to the sharing of pleasures. Swift answered he had done nothing but share her company, and then mostly in the company of others. The ordeal continued a while longer with each of the elders having further questions, till at last he was told to wait outside, out of hearing so they could discuss the issue.

Stag's helper who had been standing guard to keep away visitors, gave him a curious glance but didn't ask what the meeting had been about. Swift was glad of the man's discretion, for he wouldn't have known what to say. As he stood awaiting his fate he watched the sky, marvelling at the birds as they moved through the air looking down on the ground thinking the view they had must be like always being at the top of a mountain.

Since Swift had first raised the subject with Wilma she had spoken to both the Shaman, and Stag about the topic. She said how the girl had expressed her feelings toward the young man, stating she felt the attraction had been long held on her part, and that Swift had only more recently come to realise the spirits meant for them to be drawn together. Dove was no simpleton, for she was among the best of her age mates, and some of the older girls who sought to learn of herbs; the first stage to becoming a healer. It was her belief that the snake incident was just a crucial turning point that made the girl let her interest be known.

Swift was startled out of his trance watching the sky, by the call to return to the meeting, nervous of the outcome, wondering if perhaps they would banish him from the camp, and he would never see her smiling face again. Wilma laid a friendly hand on his arm, leading him back inside to resume his seat, to hear what the elders had decided.

It was the Shaman who told him of their decision, handing Swift a counting stick with fifteen marks, one for each summer of his life. He was to take a spirit journey out in the wilds by himself, and return when each mark had been crossed through at the setting of the sun. Surviving alone away from the camp would be a tough challenge, but the spirits would guide his path if he sought to listen, then upon his return they would meet again.

He could leave today or at first light tomorrow, but the first counting mark he could scratch out was at tomorrow's setting sun. Swift rose from his seat thanking them for the time they had spent considering his predicament. Each of the elders gave him a piece of their sage advice before he left, and he asked Wilma to tell Dove not to worry about his absence, and to keep her busy and out of trouble.

He stopped at his dwelling to load a travelling bag with supplies for his journey, and pack a light bedroll, then with spear in hand set off on a trip that was to determine his fate.

The trip was arduous, and at first he thought it may have been a punishment for being so presumptuous, but as each day passed he communed with the world about him in a way that never occurred in the busy life he lead at the camp. With no one to signal to call for aid, he needed to take care not to make any foolish mistake, for it could be his last.

As his trip drew to a close he had travelled in a long curved path leading back towards the camp's home territory, and on his last day he was once again on familiar ground. He was within half a day's walk of the camp when he set down to make his final camp, thinking the trials of this quest would stay with him for a long time. Each day Dove had been on his mind, and his fervent hope was that the elders would look kindly on them, for he had been truly blessed by the spirits on his journey.

Two days before he had been in light bush and woodland at the edge of a grassy plain when he had heard a noise to chill the blood, the roar of a long tooth cat, the most deadly predator that all men feared. He then heard another roar in answer, followed by the most terrifying sounds as two males fought, whether over territory or mates he didn't know. The cats were both young males, inexperienced but well matched, as he watched them from his hiding place, well pleased he was downwind of the argument, not wanting them to break off for a light meal.

By the time one cat prevailed, the victor was badly injured, limping and bleeding from his many wounds. The lush spring grass was not so tall that other predators could be in wait nearby, and the fearsome noise would have scattered the game over a wide area, making it unlikely any would return soon. Swift knew how dangerous wounded animals could be, and that was just the large grass eaters, who had been the death of many a good hunter.

The problem was just how badly injured the cat might be, but he knew how with men after a fight was over they were at their most vulnerable, all their energy had gone and they wanted to sleep. He sought out a better vantage point by climbing a stout tree as close as he dare to the surviving cat, from the higher position he was able to see the blood stained fur, and laboured breathing of the animal. Seeking to get a strong grip on the tree limb with his legs he fixed his spear in the branches and prepared his slingshot.

His first stone fell shy, landing near the animal's head, and getting barely any response, the next hit it's throat causing an angry noise but hardly any movement. Now he had his eye in for the range he pelted the cat, but it's responses were becoming more feeble due to the loss of blood the creature had suffered from the fight.

He climbed down from his perch, about to do the bravest or most foolish thing of his life, and if he failed no one would ever learn his fate. He left his supplies and bedroll on the ground and gripped his spear firmly thinking he would only get one opportunity. Surveying the ground, for it wouldn't do to fall over, he made his attack.

The beast scarcely made an attempt to move he lunged forwards with his spear, under the ribs and upwards as deep as it would go. The animal breathed it's last, and Swift gave thanks to the spirits.

He shuddered now at the thought of that day, never wanting to be that scared ever again, but tomorrow would see his return to camp.

Shortly after dawn he rolled up his sleeping fur, ate some of his dried food, and washed it down with water from a nearby stream, then spear in hand set off for home.

Dove had been told of Swift's spirit journey, though young she had heard the tales of the story tellers, and knew of the perils faced by a lone hunter. Wilma had done her best to keep her busy, but she knew it was mostly 'make work' to keep her from thinking about her man out there by himself. She now knew he had taken up the challenge to prove he was worthy of such a choice that was contrary to common custom.

He was due back today, and she had been up since first light watching for his return. Her mother had seen the strain, this ordeal was as much for Dove as it was for Swift, and at last she realised her daughter had set her mind on who was to be her life mate.

Throughout the camp Swifts absence had been noted, and several of the women had seen Dove's worried behaviour, but the elders had made no mention in the nightly meetings of his disappearance. This meant they must know where he was, but didn't want as yet to make it common knowledge.

Dove wouldn't move from her vigil, even making water over the edge of the stone ledge rather than leave to visit the women's waste trench. Her mother and Wilma came to join her for a while, bringing her water or food, and even some of her female age mates were curious about her watch over the valley, for she was uncertain from which direction he would come.

Hawk knew before Dove, for being only a young girl she hadn't studied hunters sign, and the lookout on the far side of the valley had made a signal of 'friend approaching' rather than any sign denoting someone from another camp, leading him to believe it was Swift returning from whatever errand he had been sent on. All the women of the camp and maybe a handful of men had become aware of the attachment between Dove and Swift, so Hawk went over to pass on the signal he had just seen. In a flash she jumped over the edge, and hit the ground running in the direction he had pointed out.

Being close to home did not stop Swift from being watchful, he therefore saw the lookout signalling the camp, and wondered what sort of reception he would receive. Looking back to the valley floor he soon saw a small figure speeding towards him, he was nearly bowled over when she reached him leaving him in no doubt she was happy to see him, even going so far as to kiss him. Out of concern he looked all about but there had been no witnesses, for kissing outside of the furs would be considered far too personal.

He was shocked by her forward behaviour, as kissing was how mothers fed their weaning babies their first pre-chewed solid food, or how the closest of mates might show their feelings toward one another after sundown between the furs.

Dove laughed at his reaction, for she had been paying more attention to the talk of older girls and women when bathing at the river. This was when she heard some of their best stories, and of course she had been seeking more knowledge from Wilma as they had spent so much time together of late. Swift would tell her nothing of his journey, stating he had to first speak with the Shaman, but he told her if things went well, and she heard him speak in front of the camp, she was not to be shocked or disappointed at what he said as he had a nice surprise in store, but would not be drawn on the subject.

As they drew closer to the camp they were joined by a gaggle of youngsters all eager to find out where he had been for the last half moon, but they learned even less than Dove. It was only on meeting Wilma on the broad terrace of their camp he at last replied to a question, giving a positive answer that it had indeed been a good trip, and that he wanted to resume the meeting from before his departure.

The meeting happened after the noon meal, going as he expected, when he left the camp leader's dwelling he went in search of several friends, looking to call in favours he had been storing up recently, so as not to be left in debt.

Dove had been disappointed Swift would not be joining them for the evening meal, as he said he had much to do since his return, but he had promised to see her at the nightly meeting. When she and her mother arrived for the meeting there was a buzz in the air, as the Shaman had on his ceremonial cape, and was carrying his totem, meaning an announcement of some importance could be expected. Looking all round Dove couldn't see Swift though he said he would be there, and Stag was beginning to speak.

He talked of traditions among the camps, and how on occasion there were circumstances when there were changes, and how vital it was at those times that the spirits be called upon to give a sign, but he didn't seem to make it clear what he was referring to. Wilma deferred to the Shaman stating she might have something to say later.

The Shaman waited for hush, then called out in the traditional way for any member of the camp to make it known if they wished to become tied. There was a collective gasp from the audience, as it was often known in advance when such a call was to be made, then stepping from the shadows Swift came forward to stand beside the Shaman.

Swift now wondered if this wasn't more frightening than facing the long tooth's, as he stood before the whole camp. He could see Dove to one side of the fire pit, and the death-grip she had on her mother's hand. Clearing his throat he made his announcement.

"I Swift of this camp wish to be tied with Dove of this camp."

This was the cause of more gasps and muttered comments from the crowd as it was plain she was not of age and was at least two or more summers from her ceremony of womanhood. The Shaman banged his totem on the stone floor causing a hush to return.

"Swift was sent on a spirit journey, and I have witnessed the omens, the spirits favour the match, as you in turn will see - I have spoken."

Now Wilma moved forwards to speak on behalf of the women of the camp, the words followed a set pattern, but only the main players who were taking part knew of the shocks to come."

"Swift, your mother rests with the ancestors, and you have no kin to negotiate a dowry for your mate, do you wish for one of the women of the camp to intercede on your behalf?"

"Thank-you, but no, I will name the dowry myself."

Dove was wide eyed with fear, she was sure even if she was of age, having such a lowly status in the camp would fetch only the smallest of dowries, and without guidance Swift may shame them all. Then she brought to mind what he had said earlier, that 'she was not to be shocked or disappointed at what he said as he had a nice surprise in store', holding back her concerns she tried to put on a brave face, though most of the crowd were as anxious as her to hear what he would say next.

"I offer one large beast of the plains, and..."

Already the noises could be heard among the audience, this was a pitiful showing, even the lowest born would expect two beasts. The banging of the totem once more returned order as Swift cleared his throat again to continue.

"And... the claws and teeth from two long tooth cats."

A stunned hush fell over the crowd, from seemingly the most paltry of dowries it now appeared he was claiming to offer an unheard of sum, that even the daughter of a camp leader could never expect.

A low murmur began to pass through the gathering as once more the Shaman stepped forwards to continue the rite, formally asking if Dove's kin, and the people of her hearth were content with the terms of the match. Raven as a humble widow of fairly low status within the camp, was Dove's only kin, and on shaking legs rose with her daughter to answer the offer. The union must be truly blessed by the spirits if a lone hunter of so few years into his manhood could return from his ordeal with such a great prize.

Raven in all the tales from past summer gatherings of the clans had never heard of a dowry to match that laid down by Swift, and knew in her heart he would have been challenged by one of the elders if they believed it was a falsehood. The Shaman had spoken of witnessing the favourable omens that presaged the tie between them, therefore he must have seen the trophies of Swifts journey. Dove squeezing her hand prompted her that she had not yet made her expected answer.

Trying to keep the tremor from her voice, she replied that the terms of the match were acceptable to her hearth, and the formal declaration of the tie was completed when the Shaman said the ceremony would take place in six days time.

There was much stamping of feet and hollering from the assembly at the naming of the match, as the young couple were surrounded by people wanting to wish them well, and if any brewed beverage had been on hand the tying would have been celebrated in advance.

At first light the following day runners set off for their nearest neighbouring camps with news of the impending match so favoured by the spirits, and the women of the camp began the preparations that such a ceremony entailed. Life at Raven's hearth changed considerably with the impending match, shaking up the normal social ties within their community, with nobody quite sure of the new pecking order.

Raven and Dove's closest friends were pleased for them, but others who crossed their paths less often were ruffled by the uncertainty of how things stood, but wished to be on good terms with anyone of rising status. The large stock of mats made by Raven, that had accrued over the winter was now being brought up by those claiming they expected visiting kin from nearby camps for the coming celebration.

Girls from among Dove's age mates were excited to think their friend was now to become tied with a hunter, even though not yet a woman, and there was much girlish laughter, and speculation as to who they would want as mates from those who had passed their manhood ceremony. Dove was pleased her friends realised this was not a passing dream for her, but a long held desire she had once sadly believed to be futile.

Both parties to the match were expected to have three or four older 'advisers' during the days leading up to the tying, and a few of the tied men of the camp felt honoured when Swift sought them out for that role. He had made the choice from those men who lived in a peaceful hearth to act as his mentors, ignoring the normal stricture to have others who were only a little older than himself.

For Dove this choice was even more starkly outlined, as even the closest of newly tied women was three summers older than herself, but she asked that young woman, then two others who were closer in age to Swift, and finally she approached Wilma as she was the wisest of all the people she knew.

Wilma was pleased the girl had the courage to ask her to take the role as one of her advisers, and suggested they start with a talk back at her dwelling, where she had one of her helpers stand nearby to see they weren't interrupted. She knew by now that Dove had all the knowledge of how an older woman would please her man, but she needed to find out for herself if this was likely to cause any problems.

Dove found herself lying on Wilma's birthing mat, with her legs up in the air, held by looped thongs hanging from the roof of the dwelling. The last time she had seen anyone like this it was a soiled infant being tended to by it's mother.

Wilma looked closely at the unfledged opening, the blushed lips still those of a child, and her birthing channel having the gossamer arc of skin only seen on girls who had not taken part in sharing pleasures with a man. She stretched the skin this way and that, trying to decide in her own mind if it were possible for Dove to take her part in the furs.

Yes it would be possible, probably painful, but that was the way with first rites. As she had not seen Swift in recent times bathing at the river she was unsure how well endowed he might be, not that a man's staff might be judged unless the will was upon him. It must be three summers back when he passed into manhood, so talking to his guide from that time would be of no help, she would need to seek out those women that had more recently shared his furs.

Having taken names from Swift it did not take long to seek out those young women that had the knowledge she wanted, those of the widest experience said it was of a reasonable girth and length, neither among the largest or smallest they had enjoyed. That opinion was mutual among all the young women who delighted in sharing natures gifts, they were also saddened he had not of late taken any of them to his furs due to his feelings for the younger girl, as he was popular for his skills.

In the two days prior the ceremony, people began to arrive from neighbouring camps, and some temporary travelling dwellings were set up by those not squeezing in with kin they had in the camp. Normally they wouldn't have expected any guests from other camps to attend a ceremony for two people of their rank, but it was the unusual nature of the match, and even more so the dowry that had caused such an interest.

Swift went on his hunt for the dowry beast with his age mates, and other men who had volunteered, just so they could have the bragging rights that they had taken a small part in such an important event in their camp, that would still be talked of by the children of their children. Of course additional hunts took place as the number of visitors was far greater than anyone had anticipated, and Swift's hunt ended up bringing back two beasts so there would be no shortage of meat for the coming feast.

Dove and her mother had been able to barter a good price to have new garments for the big day, and Dove had been to the hearth of the skin worker to make some trades of her own, wanting to add her little surprise to the proceedings. At each hearth throughout the camp food had been prepared for the feast that afternoon. As the sun approached it's zenith the two celebrants were called forwards to the front of the gathered throng, while the Shaman said his sacred words.

At the right moment, one of Swift's friends came forward holding open a leather pouch, reaching inside Swift grasped the leather thong it contained, and held it aloft. To the collective gasp of the crowd four long teeth, and several of the other teeth could be seen fastened in place, and fixed with tree resin. Later over many moons holes would be bored through them to make a more fitting display of such a powerful amulet.

Looking into her dark brown tear filled eyes he placed it around her neck wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. The Shaman continued with the ceremony as the two young people in front of him looked only at each other. At last it was time for the tying, his left wrist to her right wrist, and so they should remain for two nights, until they emerged from from his dwelling upon the following noon for the knot to be released though the couple remain bonded.

The Shaman called for them to hold out their hands, Dove smiled at the look on Swift's face as the 'cord' that the Shaman produced was that of made of a headless snake skin. Dove had been sure no one would have let good food go to waste, and the skin would make a fine decorative belt, and she had been right, on leaning why she wanted it, the man had offered it as a gift, but Dove insisted on making some payment for his fine work in preserving the reminder of such a pivotal day in her life.

In a way it felt right that the snake that had brought them so close together, was now at the centre of their tying ceremony.

That afternoon and on into the night there was no shortage of any type of food, the same could be said for the brewed beverage that some of the men had consumed to excess. All the people wanted to congratulate the happy couple, many nervously asking if they could touch the amulet at her neck, looking in both fear and wonder at the fearsome objects that would have ensured their certain death if they had encountered the cats in life.

Wilma and Raven had placed all the couple would need for the coming two days in Swift's dwelling, food, gourds of fresh water, and soil pots with covers. Once they were sure they had done everything for the couples comfort, they closed the flaps, and Wilma hung her personal amulet at the opening ensuring none would be bold enough to enter, and play any foolish pranks.

Their wrists weren't bound solidly together, but as two close loops, so their bound hands still had some use if they acted in harmony, which they had been told was the lesson of the ceremony. When they had at last been able to escape, many of their age mates had tossed torn grass and meadow flowers at them, leaving the pair looking a mess.

At a distance around Swift's dwelling lay a ring of stones on the ground, and for the next two days, none would cross the barrier so they should have a time alone together. They had been told of Wilma's amulet, and how only they could pass as it's presence there was meant as a warning to others.

Half the day had been spent in preparation, and the afternoon had been spent talking with countless people, many she didn't even know, but now she was at a loss for words, alone at last to do what tied couples did, to do what girls did when they reached womanhood. Several young women other than just her chosen advisers had spoken with her over the past days about what was to come, about her maiden time.

She had heard so many tales, it seemed she knew the when, where, and who, of every woman in the camp. Eventually she had been quite scared of the prospect, so had sat down with Wilma to talk it over. Wilma with over thirty summers behind her spoke about when she had looked a few days past at her birthing channel, and how the first time was rarely a time of pleasure for the girl, but without the first how could she expect to have the second, and all those to follow that could be times of great joy.

Looking about what was to now be their shared dwelling Dove saw the two clay pots that Wilma had promised she would leave near the sleeping furs. First she had need of another pot as neither had been able to visit the waste trenches tied together as they were, Swift was also in need, but had taken wise council in avoiding any of the brewed drink that had been flowing freely that afternoon.

Laying down together, in fact all their movements were an exercise in cooperation, and now they had the odd trial of getting undressed, for Dove it was simple to unlace the cords over her shoulders that held up her new dress. It was now that Swift realised why most men chose to be bare chested for the ceremony as his light jerkin was now trapped on their joined arms, and his friends were probably laughing at this point, having suggested he wear it. He had dropped his breeches to make water, but they were stuck with the jerkin until Dove said they should cut the stitching on one of the seams.

It took a while with them each having only one free hand, but it was another aspect of the way they needed to work together. Freed of the last garment they lay facing each other, and beside their clothes lay the precious amulet of long teeth. Faint sounds of the revellers could be heard coming from the gathering place in the distance, but the crackling sounds of the small fire providing light, and their own breathing, dominated the confines of the dwelling to the exclusion of all else.

Young men always had an older woman chosen to teach them what they needed to know at their manhood ceremony, but when girls reached adulthood they had a free choice of who they wished to call on for their maiden time, and so there were no men trained for that task. Swift was no novice in the furs, but still he had the wisdom to ask advice from a few men who had been chosen several times to perform those rites in the hope they could tell him how to ease Dove's passage into womanhood despite her tender age.

In the dim light Dove could see the caring way he looked at her with his bright blue eyes, a rare colour not shared by many of the clan, and wondered if one day she would bear a child that favoured her mates spirit in having that same colour. Their free hands each roamed over the body of the other, sensing the rising excitement, till at last her small fingers found his staff proud and ready.

Shyly Dove admitted that due to her age she had worried about this moment, and found that Swift had harboured the same concern, thus he had secreted a pot of bear grease near the furs. Dove kissed him now she was sure none could see, and giggling told him Wilma had also left some grease for them, for that very same reason.

Swift played with her body just as he had with many who had shared his furs, and even though her chest looked no different to that of a boy of her age, he still found she enjoyed his attention just as much as any young woman whose breasts could feed a child. Moving down her body he could only take one hand with him as she wanted to use both of her own hands to rub her still wet tiny nipples.

Her thin cleft was not dressed with the hair he was used to seeing, but it gave him a clear view of her tender girl parts, flushed dark with her excitement, but as yet barely damp. He moved her legs wider, his tongue tracing the shape of her, learning her body as he had with many others. Dipping between her lips he found her taste more subtle and delicate than the heady taste and odour of any previous encounter.

He set to with a will, anxious Dove should receive some joy from the night ahead. Progress was slow at first, but he listened as her breath quickened, then he moved to that place near the top of her girl cleft, also not as prominent as on his older partners in the furs. With patience he drew her onwards, until at last he felt her body shake and tremble.

She had heard the older girls talk of what Swift was doing, and of how some women complained their mates said no man should put his mouth there, but some hinted that their men didn't need to know what happened while they were away hunting, which caused great roars of laughter. Now she was beginning to feel some new feeling rising within her body, an expectation, then suddenly her body was awash with waves of joy the like of which she hadn't known before.

He moved back up the furs, holding her with his free arm, feeling little shivers run through her, and suspected this was all new for Dove. A girl he had shared pleasures with had once showed him how she liked to touch herself on lonely nights, and he had learned much from the experience, later putting it to good use. For a while they talked softly then Dove made it known she was ready for her maiden time, reaching for the pot Wilma had left to aid that event.

He could now feel some of her own moisture as he anointed her with the slippery mixture from the pot while she did the same for him, ensuring there would be plenty to ease her journey from girl to woman. Again they manoeuvred with the encumbrance of being tied together, until he lay above her suggesting she be the one to place his staff in position.

Gently rubbing against her progress was slow, but the council they had both sought from wiser heads came to prevail, and at last the entrance was breached, as Dove gasped at the seemingly massive intrusion. Slowly they made the dance that has passed through time, Swift aware of how tight her passage felt gripping his shaft. Knowing Dove must feel stretched, he took care to read both her words and her body, not wishing to cause her any undue distress.

She had been warned of the pain that came with the loss of her maiden skin, and it hadn't been to great, far less than being bitten by a snake, and she had survived that thanks to the man who now possessed her body, slowly filling her with his staff. Little by little she felt his advance until they were fully joined. As he moved within her, the fires she had felt before began to reignite, causing her to ignore the residual sting of her lost maiden skin.

Her tightness was like no other woman he had lain with, being four summers younger than any other, thus he admired her courage in that he had been told of the pain of first rites, but she urged him on making little of any discomfort that she felt. Soon it was upon him, and he knew he could last no longer, calling out her name as his essence shot forth into her small body below him with a scalding heat and fury.

Recovering from the intense experience, and once more lying on their sides he stroked her face, as she nestled against him. After resting a while Dove wanted to clean up, as she felt the sticky mess between her legs, and the whole of her girl cleft was feeling tender from her first rites. There were bowls, and soft wash skins set out near the furs, so in the feint light from the fire she washed away Swift's essence tinged red with her maiden blood. Next she picked up the second clay pot Wilma had left which contained a soothing salve, and in her role as acolyte to the camp healer she sniffed the mixture to see what it might contain.

Over the Garlic she could just detect a hint of Woundwart, a marsh plant, and a little Sanicle that was gathered from the woods, thinking that one day she might learn the secrets of becoming a healer. She generously applied the salve, aware that Swift was following her actions, then wiping her hand she reached out to touch the amulet she had worn all afternoon. She was not so naïve to think so many people had come to witness her union with Swift, but rather to see such a powerful message from the spirits that was a blessing on their unusual match.

Raven had all the remaining claws and teeth, and now her mother was more than just a widow of low status within the clan. Each person's property remained their own, but through kinship or union, or even being in the same camp her change reflected upon all the others around her, and Dove suspected her mother would not be alone for long.

It had been a tiring day and soon the two lovers slept, though woke and played to sleep again, and come the dawn Dove found she wasn't too sore to seek pleasures during the daytime. Dove was an eager pupil, and got through much of Wilma's salve to stave off the effects of so much time spent in the furs. At the end of their isolation, they emerged smiling in time to share a noon meal with those friends who had come to greet them.

Dove asked the Shaman to take care loosening the tie, as this to her was a most precious keepsake. With the departure of all the visitors camp life was getting back to normal, and soon they were discussing with their friends what they had missed while they had been hidden away for the past few days. Not long after eating Dove was hauled away by a gaggle of her age mates all keen to hear about her time alone with Swift.

Wilma had been at the meal to welcome the newly formed couple back to the camp, and had seen the gleam in the girl's eyes, and the fact she had been able to walk with hardly a sign of what must have taken place. While they were away she had also heard from a few men about the concern Swift had shown in wanting to learn from their knowledge of first rites in order to do his best for his young mate. The spirits surely blessed this union.

Epilogue

Dove went on to become a healer as she had dreamed, having a long and joyous union with Swift, leading in time to the birth of three children who all survived, and favoured the spirit of the man of that hearth having his unusual blue eyes.

A conversation Swift had when hunting for his dowry beast came to pass, in that their story would still be talked of by the children of their children, but they could never have known that it would echo down the ages to appear on something called the internet some 15,000 years later!